


Morning Glory

by MeltinRain



Category: Reverse Tale of Genji (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Character Death, F/M, Introspection, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeltinRain/pseuds/MeltinRain
Summary: Wrote this based off of my interpretation of Yugao so far from the Reverse Tales of Genji. Has some direct quotes from it. In this story, Aoi wants your love too.Credit to cyanspade for my index formatting. I saw this in her work "Trial and Error", and thought it was a neat idea =)





	Morning Glory

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this based off of my interpretation of Yugao so far from the Reverse Tales of Genji. Has some direct quotes from it. In this story, Aoi wants your love too.
> 
> Credit to cyanspade for my index formatting. I saw this in her work "Trial and Error", and thought it was a neat idea =)

* * *

 

_"The delicate scent of flowers from his letter, and his flowing calligraphy… As I write, I form an image in my mind of this man I've yet to meet."_

 

**I.**

You remember your nervous curiosity in taking his hand. His soft smile.

At the beginning, you see him only to forget Lord Fujitsubo. He is a mere distraction. Aoi knows, you try not to acknowledge but he does. He pretends he doesn't see, because he wants this to work, to win your approval. Your husband longs for the day that you see him.

Yugao is your first. Perhaps he will always be special in that way. In the way that a woman holds the firsts of her life in a space inside her heart, untouched by the passing of time in the world outside. He is calm despite your nervousness, and assures your of the ritual accordingly. Your hands shake more than they do when you touch Aoi, the experience new and exciting.

Yugao does not rush you, does not say anything, a comforting smile on his face. He feels…soft. Like a warm hug. But a part of him is distant. Whether it's the gasps he suppresses mid-breath, or how his hands feel lukewarm, you feel as if he is with you while holding his heart out of your reach.

He is kind. But he is not by your side.

This is the first impression that you walk away with after your first night together. So you try a second time.

Again, he completes his part of the evening diversion properly, his smile unchanged.

Though you want to feel offended and want to strike him off for any future diversions, for Kuromitsu has told her there are other suitors, you cannot bring yourself to do so.

Could this simply be the nature of a diversion itself?

You try another man - Rokujonomiya. He is, by all accounts as close to your father-in-law as you can get, without lying with the product of his seed. He is also infatuated with you, in his own words, and wants to be the one that you can't forget. His eagerness makes it quite clear: as your guide, he wants to lead your heart into his arms. Some would love to have a man with such status and looks as him want them as much as he does you.

But for some reason, the nights with him feel like an empty victory when you look down at his flushed face, and his adoring gaze. His hands feel sweaty and cling to you in such a way that all you can think of is how intrusive his touch is.

It is an unpleasant truth that your uncle-in-law does little for you than be another repeat of her time with Aoi. As pleasant as he is, you find him too restrictive and suffocating. You know, to think of him in this way is quite cruel. After all, he tries so hard and resembles the man you love most as much as his own son…but your heart refuses to move. So you try several more men, with each being more disappointing that the last. At least, you think, with Yugao you could forget momentarily.

It is with this half-hearted satisfaction that you return to your nights with him. For his part, Yugao does not reject you and continues to lead you into those passionate, comfortable nights. You wonder how you can be satisfied with a who does not even send a letter all those times you visited other men. Did he think about you those lonely nights?

"It is not proper for someone like me to do so." His answer leaves no room for argument, a detached finality etched in stone. It is how he has acted after all, as if he is bound by the rules of their society to the point no other thought leaves his lips. He is beautiful to admire, a lover that is clumsy with words and yet seductive with his body. A man with only the Yugao flowers in his name.

"Was this really why you rejected me that first time?" You remember the look of Chujo's face when you drank. Her eyes mist with memories past and the liquor loosens her tongue. It is not an uncommon story, parting due to social differences. But the man in question is Yugao.

It is when Yugao speaks the fear that has been lingering in your mind all this time. "I…once had someone I loved very much. A noblewoman of the court." Though it only beats for Lord Fujitsubo, you remind yourself, your heart tightens. You can sense the deep sadness in his soft voice. His gentle voice. One that cuts you to pieces.

Still, you press. If you have an answer, you tell yourself, you can put her growing affections to rest.

It would not do, you think, to run into the arms of yet another that does not look back at you.

"Was that Chujo?"

Amid the quiet breaths in the spacious room, the sound of his pause is deafening. You can tell that his body goes rigid at the name. His gaze on the back of your head, as you lie on your side, cheek pressed into the pillow. You do not want to hear. But you need to.

"It looks like I've upset you by talking about such thoughtless things. I have no-" He's about to pull the both of you back onto shore, to give you a reprieve from gazing at this aimless distance that stretches out between you.

"Please…Yugao." _Tell me._ The unspoken request in your voice is so blatant, the tip of the whirling chaos in your mind. It's unfair of you, you know. Perhaps cruel to make him relieve this pain. But you hope he will understand in time. 

"Are you sure you wish to hear it?" His question echoes that of his words on the very first night you shared. He is so careful, but this time it is tinged with a stifled nervousness that you have never witnessed. How deep has this lovely yet poor man buried his own self? Despite it all, your heart aches for him.

"Yes."

"Lady Chujo…was my third woman I accepted to share my nights with. She was…is a person that was easy to be enamored with. My affection did not take long to twist the physical into something…more. She was the first one I gave everything to. But fate was not kind. She was born into the sky while I will always lie in the dirt. She may have said she loved me, yet that was the reality."

"You still love her."

"…I cannot bring myself to mourn, so I choose to hate her. The only thing I love is the flowers solely in my possession."

Your eyes twitch in pain and your body sinks into the floor. He has done it, has sliced your with words and pushed you further away from shore. You lie untethered to anything in her anguish. He has as good as said he still loves your sister in law, and Chujo certainly has made it clear she still holds feelings for him.

You wonder if this is retribution. To have emotions so out of sync with the man beside you. All that time you ignored Aoi's longing gazes while the two of lay in the aftermath of your nights together. You never gave it a second thought back then. As the princess of the imperia bloodline, the affections of a man you did not love never crossed your mind.

But now things are different. Because in your devastation, you realize that now your heart seeks Yugao.

Even as he tells you he cannot love. You cannot find it in yourself to run away. He has becoming your unwitting shelter, the one you truly call home.

**II.**

It is one night that you catch a sad expression in the downward pinch of his brows, that you reach out to him.

"Yugao…I don't mind." Even if he loves another. But you do not know what you've done.

For a split second, Yugao's eyes widen and the soft realization flits across his face. Cheeks flushed, his eyes tilts away.

"I…I have fallen in love with you."

Your heart soars. But your mind gives pause - after all, you did not become the renowned princess merely for your looks - at whether he really does love you. Yugao's mouth tightens and he takes your reluctance as a rejection.

"I'm sorry…a lowborn like me should never have feelings for a highborn, especially one of the imperial bloodline."

The pain in his heart pulls your hand to his and any doubt dissolves in your mind as you lay a kiss on his neck.

"Don't be sorry." Already you are curling closer to him, like a moth to a flame. Yugao is a man beloved by you. He should not have to apologize for something you have desired for quite a while. With a shuddering gasp, you brace yourself on his chest as your hips rock rhythmically against his. You revel in his sweaty skin on yours.

In the afterglow, Yugao tells you he is content with what you have. He knows he cannot be publicly seen with someone of your status. You're seized with an overwhelming sorrow because you realize the very same. For the two of you to be together, it can only be on nights like this. Such is the current rule of society.

Still, day by day, you're infatuated with the man who smells of flowers, and you continue to dutifully write your letters him. No one should be left as lonely as he has been. Kuromitsu's expressions each day as he takes your letters turn from confused, to worried.

One night when you snap your fan, he asks.

"If you have feelings for Yugao beyond an evening diversion, you should not meet him anymore."

First, you are surprised, and then irritated. Kuromitsu is a mutual friend, why would he be warning you away like this? The two of you hold the same feelings. Shouldn't he be happy? Kuromitsu detects your obvious dismay, but presses onward.

"I'm saying this for your sake."

"Because he is a lowborn?"

Your voice tinges with sarcasm. You never thought Kuromitsu would worry about what cannot be changed and of a friend, at that.

"That too. But he has been so deeply hurt that I do not think…it is a good match."

At the mention of Lady Chujo, the hand on your fan twitches. You resist the urge to snap it. Your foster brother can sense your obvious struggle and decides to conclude his advice here. You've forgotten your impossible feelings for Lord Fujitsubo, but at what cost?

Despite it all, your heart is optimistic. You are the shining princess of the imperial court, and things like social status have never been an issue for you. But as for matters of the past, it is not long before they emerge.

Lady Chujo invites herself over the next week, eager to see if your evening diversions have fixed your listlessness. You pour another drink into your cup and sip with melancholy.

"Did they not satisfy you?"

She is already wondering who next to suggest. Her gaze at you is with friendly concern. But a part of you wants to loathe her. For making Yugao unable to love. For winning Yugao's heart first. Shaking your head away from unpleasant thoughts, you attempt to shift the topic to easier conversations. But Chujo is undeterred. Because something about your behavior, she can tell, seems strangely familiar. Your mood is one of frustration, not disappointment at unsatisfying partners.

"I do not wish to discuss this anymore, Chujo."

It doesn't take much for her to realize. Her eyes widen.

"Have you fallen in love with one of them? Splendid, why not take them in as your concubine?"

Chujo is pleased. She knows Aoi cannot satisfy you, but is happy that you've found someone who can.

"Unless…The one you love doesn't have any status." Her voice falls short. Memories of pain surge through her heart as well. Of loathing, of heartbreak. Your hand on the cup tenses as her gaze mists into nostalgia. A look of anguish twists her features before she too, represses the thoughts. When she returns to you, it is with a firm resolve.

"You mustn't. I know this is not a pleasant truth, but if the one you love cannot show his face in the court, you need to give up."

It is with caution that you pry.

"Is this from experience?"

"It is."

"Is this from the lowborn man you once loved?"

She inclines her head, biting her lip. Your gaze slides over her and you let the next question linger in a drawl. It fires with more edge than you planned.

"Was it only because of status that you left him?"

Chujo squeezes her eyes shut, trying to collect herself. You wouldn't be able to understand how much it pains her - you've never been through this before.

"You think so little of status, because of our positions in the court. But it is much easier to use one as a dagger if one is lowborn."

"But surely you can protect him."

"Protection! Wagging tongues can ruin a household overnight. And if my family was implicated, if my name was tarnished, I'd lose everything."

Her hands curl into fists and she stares back at you. The unspoken retort hovers between you.

 

_Would you? Would you give everything up to be with Yugao?_

 

You, who has never known a day without shelter, without the silken clothes on your back, without the fine wine in front of you?

"I would."

Her resolve shakes with the finality of your reply. To her, to Kuromitsu, you are too gullible. Despite your wit and ingenuity, you are a fool. A fortunate fool.

"Perhaps it will work out for you." You can hear the sneer in her voice. The doubt and anger. "You are of the imperial family after all."

It is much harder for any prominent family to make an enemy out of royalty. But that also means you have many more enemies in the dark and dangers. You can tell by her words that she is implying Yugao will die faster at your side. Your refuse to consider it. You can protect him. You _will_ protect him. Him and the morning glories in his garden. If Yugao needs a status, you can provide him with one. He, who deserves to be the sole recipient of your affection. It cuts your heart every time he refers to himself as a toy, as a low born when you alight into his chambers.

Days later, you hold a private meeting with Aoi. His eyes are hopeful that you have visited to be with him. He does not expect your next words.

"I'm divorcing you."

"What?" At first, he cannot believe it. It is, after a union between the imperial family and one of the most established families in the capital. Your heart does feel guilty at the pain you cause Lord Fujitsubo. But the reactions of those in your family who secured this marriage do not affect you. You parents died long ago. "H-Have I done something wrong?"

Aoi's throat constricts and you sense his panic. Your stomach clenches at your cruelty, but you push on. You must be cruel to have Yugao.

"No."

With that, you withdraw from his chambers. You do not say anything considerate, because he will try to talk sense into you again. But you reject the values this world holds as common sense. Deep inside, you have done so for a long time.

Chujo demands to see you and storms into your study the next day.

"This is because of that lowborn, isn't it?" She is furious, and spits out the label in derision. A part of her loathes Yugao so much for being a lowborn. For seizing her heart and being unable to forget him.

"Chujo."

"I heard from Aoi. You are insane."

Your sister-in-law forgets her usual composure in a rage. This topic is sensitive to her, and she feels as if you've slapped her with it again.

"You can never divorce, even if you are royalty."

"The man I love…is Yugao. And he loves me back."

Shock spreads across her face, her mouth open with disbelief. Then it fades into betrayal. And envy. And fear. Your confidence pauses at that. Why is she afraid?

"Then all the more you can't divorce. He can be a concubine, but never your husband." She crawls toward you with desperation in her bright eyes.

"He will _be_ my husband."

She's crossed the line. You rise from your seat, and with a toss of your robes, stride out of the room. Then it occurs to you that Chujo might go after your soon-to-be husband. You send for the quickest carriage and make your way to Yugao's home. And you overhear him in conversation with your sister in law.

"Leave her, Yugao."

"I am a lowborn and do not have the status to see someone as esteemed as yourself. Please leave."

"She's going to get you killed!"

"She loves me."

"At least I'd be safer. Be with me, Yugao. I made a mistake-" Chujo wishes to steal him away from you, that much is clear.

Unable to control you anger, you slam open the doors and intrude into the heated conversation.

"He is my husband."

"Not yet." Chujo turns back to her former lover, her gaze pleading.

Yugao snatches his hands away from her and looks to you. The love amidst his conflicted expression gives you the strength to lead Yugao out of his house. You shush his protests, that he cannot get on a carriage with someone as highborn as you, and lean into his comforting scent.

**III.**

Soon after you are preparing for your wedding. You've banned Chujo or the rest of her family from attending. Even Lord Fujitsubo, because you can't risk it. You are elated, the anticipation of finally being wedded to Yugao keeping you awake. You have never felt more free. An attendant brings you to his chambers at night.

The love of your life sits down beside you and gestures to the cups of wine on the table between you. One for you and one for him. Gazing at the moon with your loved one, you feel content. Perhaps tomorrow there may be worries, problems, but you'll face them together.

"Yugao, are you happy?"

"I am happy." He gives you a soft smile. The taste of the wine is heaven tonight.

As lovers, you drink and exchange words of affection. You tremble at the way his fingers caress your face. He's never reached out to you first, and the gesture soothes your heart. Your face heats under his intense gaze, the way he commits every inch of you to memory.

"Do you remember what I said that first night?" _I am like those yugao flowers in my garden._ You laugh, smiling at the comparison. Flowers bloom, wither and die.

"Those flowers, while pretty, cannot be compared to the likes of you who holds my heart."

His shoulders tremble and he is laughing along too. Laughing until he spits out blood.

Your heart stops.

"Yugao!" In that moment, your mind is blank as the blood trickles down his mouth. He's choking on his own lifeline now, the noose along his neck.

**"It's fatal."**

But when you turn to call for an attendant, he grabs your arm with ferocity that stops you in your tracks.

"How-" Your eyes land to the empty sake cup in front of him. It looked so harmless minutes ago, but now it is stained with drops of red.

Your sleeve is too, as he clutches at it.

Yugao smiles bitterly and watches the dawning horror on your face when you figure it out.

"I…was told to kill you." There were many people who hated you to the core. Even you did not know the true extent of your enemies. You process his betrayal and the pain shatters your heart.

He sighs. All the while he was at your compound, he did not tell you of the servants' cruel whispers that a toy like him had gone above their station. He did not tell you of the times your relatives, threatened to erase his existence, saying that he would be the death of you. And they were right.

Because he hates. He hates the noble society that trudges on his battered soul day after day. He hates the highborn who have treated him as no more than a disposable plaything throughout his life. He only yearned to be loved.

 

_Even though they are of the same species, is it so selfish of him to expect their sincerity simply because he is a lowborn?_

 

He thought you to be the same at first, so when that man had asked him to seduce you, to poison you, he agreed. You were the perfect canvas to unleash his anger, his despair against the world. The shining princess of the imperial family.

Yugao didn't expect to fall in love with you in the process. He could no longer return to being the same man who would slip a dagger into your pillow for some coin.

"To me…you are like the moon." A moon that graces one's vision only at night, forever out of reach. A moon willing to shelter even wild flowers under its comforting light.

You love him, but you fail to see the proud man underneath the veneer of his gentle disposition. A man who loves you dearly but is unable to release the years of loathing others, and of loathing his own existence. Too many years has he lived, like a caged bird, with restrictions so humiliating he is sure you cannot imagine them. It is only with this requiem of his despair, of his revenge against the world, that he can be free.

Caught between two paths, this is what he decides:

 

If you cannot bear to leave him, cannot let go of him, then he will let go of you.

 

Yugao knows you will not understand. Do not understand the emptiness and remorse that clash in his heart. At the very least, he wants to depart from this world bathed in your love. He is happy you are giving this to him.

The only thing you can do right now is hold him close to your sobbing chest and he shudders and gasps, each breath more painful than the last, as his blood continues to run down your skin.

"Did you love me?" You croak, torn apart by what he's done.

You realize now why you sensed something was strange. Even though he told you he loved you all those nights ago, that distance between you two hadn't changed at all. Tears trail down your cheeks, numb from the cold. Yugao's convulsions stop with one last sigh. Till the end, even though he loved you deeply, he was unable to trust you.

**IV.**

Numbness is the only state you are in as over the next several days, your imperial family and Aoi's restore your marriage. You no longer have the will to deny the union, the rest of the capital merely chalking it up to a princess' temper tantrum. News of marriage with a lowborn nameless man must have been a ruse, after all.

You bury yourself in your work. Aoi no longer talks to you, and only performs the consummation rites without any reaction. The two of you mechanically complete your responsibilities as husband and wife, and after, he avoids seeing you unless necessary. Too much damage has been done.

Neither of you want to reconcile because you both understand that this marriage will go on forever regardless. Why bother?

In time, Chujo once again visits your doorstep. She finds you in your study, staring at the trees that have begun to sprout new leaves.

Spring has arrived. The flowers will soon be in bloom once more.

Your sister's face is haggard and her eyes are full of blame. She, who broke Yugao's heart, blames you for being the last straw. The first deriding the last.

"He had no family already when I met him five years ago. No parents, no sisters or brothers. Not even a neighbor."

Her words are slurred and hoarse, having spent nights drinking and crying. Crying for the loss of the only man both of you loved.

Her weary words get no response as you continue to gaze out the window, your face revealing no trace of expression. Chujo feels as if she's talking to empty space.

"Yugao was someone who'd been abandoned by everyone he came across. The only thing he had were those damn flowers."

Your sister-in-law lapses into a long silence until she can no longer tolerate being in the same room as you. She leaves.

 

Spring is here.

 

You call for an attendant to fetch you a carriage. Kuromitsu no longer attended to you, having asked for a transfer to somewhere else in the imperial family after his friend's passing. Before he left, he didn't say a word, but you sensed the accusation radiating from his back.

You didn't reply - your heart died that night.

The humble home that once held the man who smelled of wild flowers is unchanged when you arrive. You remember the very first time you visited. You remember a stranger so beautiful, who wouldn't dare to look at you, much less speak.

You walk into the home, and into the chamber that holds your many memories.That very first night, he posed you a question.

 

_"Are you prepared to lie with me?"_

 

Moments pass with you standing in the darkness of the room. Then you turn back towards the light coming from the doorway.

Your feet carry you to the garden where he showed you the green buds of the morning glories. Now they are in bloom, shaking like newborn fawns when the wind tickles them.

Gazing at the field of white petals. You wonder. You wonder why he did what he did. You wonder if there was anything else you could've done.

The petals flutter, but your heart is still.

 

* * *

 


End file.
